


Spies and Enforcers

by TheDarkSideofEnergon



Series: Unrelated Prompts [7]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, Fluff, M/M, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22504672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkSideofEnergon/pseuds/TheDarkSideofEnergon
Summary: A lot of things happened to Jazz and Prowl during the war after they met on the front lines. But fifteen of them stand out in Prowl’s mind as particularly processor-boggling, for one reason or another.Fifteen random-word drabbles.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Series: Unrelated Prompts [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1493489
Kudos: 45





	Spies and Enforcers

**Author's Note:**

> These are in the same style as my other works of this type, though these take place in somewhat of a chronological order.

**Borrow** ****

Prowl slipped in the grease, twisting to avoid landing on his doorwings as blaster fire filled the air. He’d lost his grip on his acid rifle, and he looked up as a Seeker landed in front of him, gun pointed at his helm.

Then three familiar shots rang out and the Seeker fell, chassis already corroding, Prowl recognizing the acid from his gun. 

A hand pulled him back to his pedes.

“Might have t’ borrow tha’ gun again sometime. Stay safer.” A blue visor  _ winked _ before disappearing back into the fray.

Prowl only processed the incident later.

Who  _ was _ that?

* * *

**Orthodox**

Barricade wasn’t known for his imaginative battle tactics. Right now, he was suggesting  _ his _ basic plan to General Ironhide: All flanks approach at once in a show of brute force.

Prowl’s doorwings flickered as he stood behind Barricade, his  _ superior _ . 

Prowl’s processor was screaming the increasingly lower percentages of success at him, as long as they stood here in this field-tent, and he grimaced, doorwings flicking again, but Ironhide was nodding along with Barricade, ignoring the Second Lieutenant standing behind the Major.

Then the shadow moved and turned into a familiar figure.

“Think th’ Lieutenant has somethin’ t’ say, General.”

* * *

**Policeman**

Prowl ducked into the nearest supply closet and twisted around, trying to see his doorwings. He’d felt the paint chip. He was usually more careful than this, reapplying the topcoat every few orns, but he hadn’t had the chance with the recent attacks… and he could see one of the old Enforcer markings starting to show.

A light hum above him made him look up. Jazz was looking down from a removed panel in the ceiling, one hand holding Prowl’s paint tin. He smiled before dropping it into Prowl’s hand. Jazz smiled before disappearing with a whisper.

“I won’t tell.”

* * *

**Portion**

Prowl’s tanks pinged him at 21%. Ignoring it, he kept checking Barricade’s plans for “mistakes.” He’d be blamed if they didn’t work, even though they weren’t his.

He was at 20% an hour later, and alerts started appearing, which he promptly dismissed. While optimal functioning would cease at 18% -- the minimum safe amount to continue running his tactical computer -- he’d already had his ration today. 

Then a familiar hand slid half a cube across to him, and Prowl looked up into a blue visor, a tiny, wry smile on Jazz’s face.

“Can’t keep keepin’ us alive if yer not, Lieutenant.”

* * *

**Lonely**

Prowl noticed first. Prowl knew Jazz took his ration back to his office. But  _ why _ ? Prowl knew why  _ he _ ate alone: other mechs were afraid of him. 

But everyone loved Jazz. So why wouldn’t Jazz eat here?

He watched Jazz float from mech to mech, slapping them on the back, laughing, winking, before taking his ration out of the mess hall. 

The next day, Prowl waited with his ration for Jazz to return to his office, before crossing the hall. He knocked, entering after a soft “come in,” and sat down across from Jazz.

They didn’t _(voluntarily)_ fuel alone again.


End file.
